


Of Elves and Men

by hawkins437



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Dalish, Early Work, Escape, F/M, Falling In Love, Ferelden, Gen, Grey Wardens, Healing, Korcari Wilds, Love at First Sight, Mary Sue, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Rebellion, Recovery, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:05:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2543597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkins437/pseuds/hawkins437
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How much is an elven lass, the First to the Keeper of her clan, willing to sacrifice for the love of a human man? Set after the events of Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening. Early work, possible Mary Sue alert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story a few years ago and decided to share it only now. Due to that, the writing might not be up to my current standards and the story might be a bit cheesy. I'll be adding new chapters as I edit it. Hope you enjoy it.

The Korcari Wilds were a land wrapped in an ever constant haze. The mystery, the danger and tricky geography of the forest always held strangers in awe, the dread of many tales of this forest—the Witches of the Wilds, the Chasind barbarians, the phantoms in the mists—all warning even the bravest of men not to venture there. Yet in the treacherous mists dwell the elves of the Dales, the keepers of the lost lore, the walkers of the lonely path, the last  _Elvhenan._  There, hidden in the shadows of the fading trees, stays the Dalish clan led by Keeper Solan and his First—maiden Avathiel—creature wise and uncondemning.

Alas, the last days have been troubling for the clan, as pack of feral Blight wolves made their lair near their camp and tore few of their hallas into bloody shreds of flesh and fur, and one of their brethren—their herder—shed his life in the attack of the frenzied beasts. Their hunters now stood ever vigilant, their countless arrows coated in poisons to end lives of the wolves for sure. Yet that night, when the moon stood fully upon skies and the silver tones of his light faintly illuminated the camp underneath the twisted branches of trees, the defiance of the feral beasts ended as they were struck by dozens of Dalish poisoned arrows.

But there were losses on the winners' side as well, and as the surviving elves proceeded to carry their fallen brethren to their camp, they stumbled upon yet another victim of the fierce wolves. It was a man clad in leather armour, a human, an archer whose bow bore the emblem of a bear. Surprise took over the hunters as they examined the body of the fallen intruder, for the man was still alive. Unconscious, barely breathing, heavily wounded, but alive nonetheless. They sent the fastest runner back to the camp to tell the Keeper about the dying man, asking him to determine the stranger's fate.

"Leave him there. If he doesn't succumb to his fate soon enough, the wild beasts will take care of him." he spoke, relentless.

"No!" the young Avathiel cried. "If we cannot show humans mercy, how can we expect the same of them? How can we expect them to accept us and stop suspecting us if we do not show them a single act of compassion, when we defy their smallest attempts at peace? They think we're as savage as wild dogs and a murderous lot to that. I say we help him, it is the least we can do."

"You are young Avathiel and you are as naïve as you are talented. The wounds of the Dalish will never heal, not in the thousands of years. We cannot let our guard down, we cannot forget the horrors we suffered. We cannot coexist with humans!"

"Then you are a fool!" the words escaped her mouth before she could stop them. "I am sorry, Keeper. I ask you for a permission to tend to the human. Any consequences lay on my shoulders and I shall bear proudly any punishment you'll see fit, should the worst happen."

"Then know this: I will allow it because you are a daughter of my sister. But if your actions were to endanger the clan in any way, any kinship I ever felt for you will be gone."

" _Ma serannas,_  Keeper."

And so on the Keeper's order they carried the human to their camp and Avathiel agreed to take care of him in her  _aravel_. He was feverish, his strength wavering, but he was not beyond saving, not yet. Avathiel cast rejuvenating spell so that he could regain a bit of his stamina as she examined his wounds. His leather cuirass was torn by the claws of Blight wolves and so were his breeches. His shoulder hit by stray Dalish arrow, the poison in which it had been coated causing his fever. Avathiel quickly mixed a few herbs and juices to create an antidote and poured the bitter liquid into his mouth, quickly followed by a goblet of water. Afterwards, used magic to cool the man's scorching skin.

She put dried elfroot and spindleweed into warm water and let it leach while she proceeded to take off his armour. She was gentle and cautious, unbuckling the armour with one hand, stopping the mild bleeding with magic emanating from the other. Once he was clothed in nothing but his breeches she let the allied spirit guide her mind, searching for wounds not visible by mere sight and found that he had suffered none, thank the Creators. She then took to washing his wounds and scratches with decoction she prepared to prevent inflammation. Finally she brushed the sweaty black hair from his face and washed away the dirt still lingering there, when she found herself stroking his stubbly cheek. Upon realizing, she briskly moved her hand away and focused, instead, on her task. A flickering light of blue magical energy sprang from her slender fingers as she finally began closing his wounds. And as all of her mana was spent, she drifted off to sleep on the other side of her  _aravel_ , exhausted.

***

He remained unconscious for yet another day, but his fever was slowly dying down. And the next day as Avathiel kneeled beside him when she tended to him, the tingling shivers of her magic awoke him. He squirmed a bit and slowly opened his eyes, adjusted to the dark void of near death still, bright light blinding him for a while. But then his eyes regained their sight and he gazed upon her, astounded. Avathiel usually wore her hair in firm chignon, but that day she went to bathe in a nearby river and left her hair down to dry. And so, as he saw his saviour, the pale gentility of her soft skin and the beauty of her azure eyes engulfed by the soft waves of hair of golden tint, he uttered these words: "Am I in heavens?"

Avathiel smiled teasingly and said: "Welcome back, stranger. I'm afraid that you must remain disappointed, for you remain in the realm of mortals still."

He was not the most handsome man and yet Avathiel still found her heart pounding in an unnatural rhythm and her breath growing shallower with each word she spoke. Her blue eyes melding with icy grey of his, causing her cheeks to flush, an occurrence she hoped he would not notice.

He shifted a bit and tried to sit up.

"If you want to sit up that's alright," she said, helping him. "But you should not strain yourself overmuch. You're not yet completely healed and it will take at least another two days before you regain your strength fully."

"Thank you, my lady, for saving me."

"It is hardly my credit alone, stranger; were you not so stubborn and determined to survive, my healing wouldn't have helped you."

"My name is Nathaniel Howe, my lady; I'm a Grey Warden." he introduced himself.

"A Grey Warden?" she smiled. "Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised, you Grey Wardens were always stubborn lot." Her smile faded as her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

"What is it, my lady? What makes you sad?" He cursed himself mentally, for he thought it was his fault.

"I am sorry, ser Howe, it's just that my father joined the Grey Wardens prior to the battle at Ostagar. He never came back."

"I'm sure he was a valuable asset to the guild. It's not often we have Dalish elves amongst us, your people's prowess in archery is unrivalled."

"Maybe." she wondered. "But it is not my family I wished to talk about. I should fetch you some meal, no doubt you're starving."

She left her  _aravel_  and returned a few moments later, carrying a bowl of fresh berries, cooked mushrooms and roasted game, as well as a pitcher of cool water. He took the bowl from her hands, the sensation of his warm touch sending shivers down her spine. For a moment they remained that way, frozen mid-motion, their eyes burying into each other. Then Nathaniel broke the moment of silent fascination: "My lady, your face is as beautiful as your soul."

Avathiel blushed before replying cautiously: "You shouldn't tell these things to elven maidens you barely know, ser Howe."

"I was being genuine, my lady." he protested.

_I should certainly hope so._  Avathiel thought but did not reply. Instead she handed him a wooden spoon and small knife.

"I should take my leave. I have other duties to attend to." her tone was seemingly cold and uncertain. It felt as if she were afraid to stay with him. And afraid she was, for he was making her vulnerable. Foolish emotions, craving her attention, emerged within her, caused by his presence.

_I cannot let that be. It is not right to fall in love with a human._

She was just leaving when he broke the silence once more:

"It occurs to me that I hadn't asked your name, my lady." he said. "I'm afraid your beauty left me a bit dull."

"I am called Avathiel." and with those words and a slight smile on her lips, she left the  _aravel_.

And her inner voices—the heart and the reason—were arguing amongst themselves once again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I keep reading through this early English literary "accomplishment" of mine, I become more and more embarrassed by it, but shall keep on sharing. Who knows, perhaps someone might like it.

“I feel well enough to get up, my lady.” Nathaniel proclaimed the next day.

Avathiel objected, arching her eyebrow, “Are you sure?” she said.

He smiled, thinking that her expression was endearing. He thought he was going to lose himself in the compassionate depths of the blue wells that were her eyes.

“I am sure, my lady.” he assured her.

“Very well, I shall believe you, ser Howe.”

“Nathaniel.” he corrected her. “Simply Nathaniel.”

“I believe you, lord Ho—” she bit her tongue mid-word. “I believe you, Nathaniel.” she corrected herself.

Then she handed him a bundle of clothes, explaining herself: “I figured you would want to get up one day, so I adjusted them to your size. And I also thought you would like to bathe yourself; you can do so in the nearby river. I’ll wait for you by the _aravel_.”

As they walked through the camp she talked about life of the Dalish, about their travels, their traditions. She told him the name of every single elf they met and what tasks they did for the clan. Nathaniel seemed very interested in everything she had to say, or perhaps he simply liked the sound of her voice. They ventured through the misty forest and when they finally stopped they were standing in a grove where river fell of the mossy rock and formed a small waterfall, just big enough for a human to stand under. She listened to the voice of the river which sang its gloomy, languid aria, accompanied by the loud crescendo of the waterfall beyond, a cheerful choir of chirping birds and the gentle twitter of wind playing with the needles and leaves of the trees. Such was the symphony of the forest, the song she loved above any other.

She was interrupted by Nathaniel’s voice, filled with concern:

“I get the feeling I am not welcome among your people. Especially your Keeper does not seem to like my presence here.”

“He views humans with suspicion and fear. His wariness may seem a bit like hostility, but it’s just the nature of elves that he’s not willing to overcome. Yet I cannot deny that he has good reasons of his own as well. Last time we allowed a human to walk among us a crime was committed—an apostate witch stole priceless tome written in old elven tongue, the heirloom only our clan possessed. He sent one of our best hunters—Ariane—to track the witch and she returned with the book only ran away with an escaped Circle mage—a human, no less. He was never more disappointed. He should not judge the whole humanity for the actions of another, however.”

“You are not hostile, my lady Avathiel.” he said, sweeping the stray lock of hair from her face.

“That is because I do not hold old grudges for pain my people have suffered long time ago. Those wounds have long since healed even if they left an ugly scar. I think it is time for my people to find a new homeland and stop dreaming about the ones we have lost.” she explained. “And…” she was silent for a while, wondering if saying those words out loud was really wise. “And it’s because I am in love with you.”

She turned from him, hastily trying to walk away in embarrassment, yet he caught her hand and cupped her face gently, spinning her to face him. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and the intensity of her gaze spoke the truth of her words.

“Then I am pleased you feel the same way, my lady.” he leaned down to kiss her but she disembroiled herself from his grasp.

“We should not be doing this. It is not wise.” she said.

“What are you afraid of, Avathiel?”

“I should go.” she tried to steel her voice against betraying emotion but failed. “I have other errands that need my attention. I’ll return once they are completed.”

And with that she departed, the voices of heart and reason arguing amongst themselves within her. She was certain that it was he she wanted, and yet felt it would be selfish and wrong to betray her people in such a way. She was the First, an heir to the Keeper of her clan, she had her duty and responsibility to protect and serve the Dalish, yet her heart whispered that her destiny lay beyond the Wilds and her clan. It was telling her that her fate lies in the hands of human man, her happiness awaiting her in his embrace and she was unable to ignore the voice, for it grew louder each time she tried. Finally, the voice of her heart won and suppressed the voice of reason.

_Very well,_ she thought. _I will listen. I will sacrifice my legacy for an illusion of happiness._

***

Avathiel returned to the grove an hour later, carrying a basket of food and his amended leather armour. For she had not spy Nathaniel nearby, she merely laid out his armour close to the riverbed, when suddenly he emerged from the water, naked from head to toe.

“By the Creators!” she shrieked and turned away swiftly, covering her eyes as she did so. “I did not realize you were not clothed yet.”

He quickly leapt into his breeches before approaching her and once more spinning her to face him. Her cheeks were flaming red of shame.

“Did I startle you?” he asked, stroking her cheek.

“Yes. I mean no! I…” she stammered. “Well… let us move on.”

He chuckled slightly, for he thought her innocence and shyness endearing; then he leaned in to press his lips to hers, yet Avathiel—in her last remaining bits of restraint—dodged his mouth and let him press as kiss upon her brow instead.

With an amused grin, he cupped her cheeks, asking once more: “What are you afraid of, Avathiel?”

Her voice faltered. “I… do not… rightly… know…” she said.

He smiled and pressed gentle kiss to her lips, embracing her as he did so. He inhaled her scent; she smelled of the forest, herbs and burning timber, and tasted of berries and cinnamon with just the faintest trace of lyrium. One simple breath made him fall in love with her fragrance. And she revelled in his embrace, breathing in the aroma that was uniquely him. To her he smelled like wind blowing in the snowy mountains, resin and linden in bloom; his taste reminded her of mint and sage—bitter yet most precious to her. They stood still for what seemed like ages, their arms entwined; silence spilling around them—even the ever restless wind ceased to rustle. Avathiel’s eyes were overflowing with the crystal beads of her tears—ones of joy.

“I am enchanted by you, Avathiel.” he whispered into her pointy ear as his hands unhooked the ivy-shaped clasp which was holding her hair in a tight chignon, the golden locks engulfing her narrow shoulders like a waterfall.

“As a dream you look, my dreamy maiden.” he said before leaning down for yet another kiss, this time more loving and demanding. And as they broke the kiss, their eyes merged into each other’s and their souls joined as well.

“I love you.” her lips trembled.

“Leave with me Avathiel, join the Grey Wardens. The guild would value your magic and I would value your company.”

“I cannot, Nathaniel, I dare not. Even though I wish to, my place and duty is with my people.” she replied. “I cannot leave, not yet.”

“I understand,” he said, his voice saddened. “You are loyal to the Dalish and I respect that, but I’ll be always waiting for you.” he promised. “I’m afraid I shall need to return to Amaranthine soon. I don’t doubt Delilah is worried sick that I’ve not yet returned.”

“So you are married then,” she frowned, disappointed in him and in herself for being foolish and naïve.

“No, it’s not like that. I do not have a wife. Delilah is my sister, the only family I have left.”

A pale smile formed on her lips at the new hope rising, but still she was saddened by the mention of his early departure. She would miss him greatly.

“But you are still going to leave.” she muttered.

“Let’s not speak about such sad things on such a lovely day, my dear.” he appeased her, kissing her cheek and wiping away the tears she did not even know she had shed. “Let’s leave the dreary topics for tomorrow.”

Chirping playfully, she steered the topic elsewhere: “Are you not hungry? You Grey Wardens have a reputation of an ever starving lot.”

It was in that moment that he noticed the low growl of his stomach.

“You are right, of course, I’m afraid your charms have left me completely oblivious to any sign of starvation.” he said with a wide grin. “Let’s see what you have brought me.”

***

That night Avathiel and Nathaniel slept in her _aravel_ —embraced, fingers entwined, they minds wandering the very same dreams, oblivious to the thoughts of the Keeper who noticed the seed of affection growing between them.

“I will not allow it.” he muttered in his sleep. “He will pay for this audacity!”


End file.
